


Teenage Dream

by zanewritessometimes



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Aaron is SO whipped, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Husbands, I really love soft fluff like this, M/M, Smut, They love each other, This is based off of the Katy Perry song, This is definitely just me spewing my love for this ship, like a lot, so is Spencer though, they're such good dads
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25865872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanewritessometimes/pseuds/zanewritessometimes
Summary: This is just a collection of little pieces of Aaron and Spencer's relationship inspired by different lyrics of "Teenage Dream" because both of these men are SO fucking whipped for each other.find me/request fics on-tumblr- pennemactwitter- sarinandvanilla (sfw) or prettyboysbeg (nsfw)
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Comments: 5
Kudos: 51





	Teenage Dream

A soft sigh escapes pretty pink lips, kiss bitten and soft. 

Aaron watches as he stands in their doorway, shoulder leaned against the mahogany frame. Light spills in from ajar curtains, leaks over thin shoulders and spine. It drips down every bump of his spine, follows when it dips near the small of his back. He remembers pressing loving kisses into each of them last night- remembers how beautiful hips had pushed up into his hands insistently, how muscles had rippled and shook under his hands. 

Spencer shifts again in his sleep, arm moving under to support his head. His thumb subconsciously slips over the bone of his brow as he does, before falling to meet his other fingers. Fingers that have curled so beautifully into Aarons own, or his hair, or around his arms, so many times before. Hands that had calloused in places from writing for much too long, from carrying a weapon much too mean for how gentle he is. Hands that he'd watched card through papers too many times to count, that he'd watched wrap around their son, embrace him with more love than he'd thought possible- love that had brought him to tears more than once. 

Birds chirping comes as a pretty melody, rather than something that interrupts his thoughts. He knows that they don't mean to be overbearing, but sometimes they helped him rouse much too early in the morning. When they do, Spencer would turn over in his arms, and bring hands to his face or shoulders, trace patterns in them to lessen the impact of waking. It always worked. Aaron would slip his own hands down his arms, shoulders, back, or anywhere he could feel smooth, supple skin. 

He'd trace over scars or blemishes in the pale canvas of his husband's skin, bring his own lips to them, if they were in places he didn't have to move too far to reach. There was one in the little hollow beneath where his thumb connected his wrist that he liked to trace over with his thumb or raise to his mouth. He remembered how that one happened, too, so the memory always came to him when he did. 

Spencer had been standing in their kitchen, in nothing but a pair of shorts that certainly weren't his, drawstring pulled as tight as it could go so they wouldn't fall down the slender frame of his hips. Aaron had walked into the kitchen slowly, fatigued from slumber, still. He'd walked up behind the smaller man, pulled him a little so that back could meet front. He hadn't meant to scare him, but he'd jumped and twitched, causing his hand to collide with a hot pan sitting on the stove top. 

Aaron had apologized profusely afterwards, been the one to run Spencer's hand under cold water for a while before finding a cooling ointment meant for burns, had gently applied it to the spot after he finished cooking their breakfast. Spencer had told him over and over again that he wasn't mad, and that accidents happened.

He still felt bad. He hadn't been able to kiss the mark right after it had happened for fear of irritating the spot, so at the time he'd taken the injured hand and pressed a kiss to the only ring fitted to the fourth finger of his thin hand. It had made both of them smile, as it always did. 

"I love you, you know?" Aaron had whispered, fingertip tracing over the deep green gem that sat in the center of the band. It matched the smaller ones laid in his own ring, which he only took off when he had too, or when he was made to clean it. Spencer had nodded and leaned his head onto his lover's shoulder. "I've never believed anything more," he'd whispered back, taking Aarons own hand now. "I love you too." His eyelashes had fluttered as they'd met eyes. "Always and forever, Aar. Forever." 

Though his eyes are closed with sleep now, Aaron knows how pretty they are, always filled with love and appreciation. He was sure that his matched, if they conveyed even half of the way he felt, or the way his heart always beat harder in moments like that. 

Brown hair is splayed across white sheets, as Spencer fell asleep against the pillows, but curled up and wiggled around in his sleep in such a way that he never woke up against one. Their duvet is twisted over his hips and ass, tangled between both of his legs. He moved so much in his sleep, occasionally waking Aaron even, but they'd laughed passed it, and always fallen back asleep again unless it was late enough in the morning to wake up. 

He takes the steps forward to crawl into their bed now, sitting next to Spencer's relaxed form. He spreads a warm hand over his shoulder blades, runs his fingers over where they protrude. It rouses him only a little, but he shifts comfortably into the touch. It's warm, and soft, and so… natural. More than anything he'd felt with another person, Aaron had noticed. 

He increases the pressure of his hand slightly, working over probably sore muscles in Spencer's back. It makes the man groan, and shift again. Aaron watches his eyes blink slowly open and then his head turn away from the sunlight. 

Aaron slips his hand up from his back and into his hair, running through the strands and massaging slightly into Spencer's scalp. His hair could use a wash, but it's still soft. Messy, of course, but soft. That's what he was waking him up for though, to get a shower in before their son woke up and inevitably started their day. 

Eventually, Spencer turns over onto his back and frees himself from the heavy blanket he'd tangled himself in, slowly. He stills once he manages the task, lets himself watch as Aaron runs a hand down his side and over his protruding hip bone. 

It's hard for either of them to convey how they feel in moments like these. It's like a calm before the storm, but the storm doesn't ever come. The storm itself is really just the type of rain that you'd dance and kiss in, so there's no sense of dread, just gentle breathing and soft smiles in the early morning. 

When he sits up and stretches, Aaron watched the way his muscles and bone twist and move, lets his eyes linger over his face. 

He keeps a hand on his hip even as Spencer shuffles closer to him to bring his face to the curve of where his neck meets his shoulder. It's his own way of saying good morning without having to kiss, always adamant that he had to brush his teeth first. 

Aaron wraps both of his arms around Spencer now, pressing a kiss to his temple, running his hands up and down his back. 

"You're so pretty, Spence. Always." 

He feels lips curl into a smile against his collarbone, lets himself accept it as an answer, a thank you. 

They both revel in the other until they have to get up to continue on, but even then, there's no doubt in their adoration. There's love in every movement, every smile, breath, and nod. It doesn't lessen how special every moment is, it feels new every time.


End file.
